


Enchanted

by Aki_Saiko (saikowrites)



Series: Writober 2019 [7]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Enchanted - Freeform, First time in Tokyo, Inktober 2019, Introspection, Kinda? I Hope, Sort Of, Writober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-12-02 00:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20941916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saikowrites/pseuds/Aki_Saiko
Summary: Kurusu Akira and a closer look to his very first moments in Tokyo.WRITOBER 2019 | Day 7: Enchanted | Based on the official Inktober 2019 prompt list.





	Enchanted

**Author's Note:**

> This thing turned out far less angsty and long than it should have been. And other 10 things you'll never hear from me again. Like, ever.

For the most part of his train ride to Shibuya, Akira hadn’t cared about Tokyo. The city blurred through the window before his eyes, tall building after huge billboard after tall building, only glimpses of it drew his attention from time to time. His chest was heavy, his mind disconnected. An unpleasant sense of alienation riverbed through him, station after station.

He fell asleep. He dreamt of a quiet evening, of his hometown and of getting arrested, again. He woke up with a start, eyes opened wide and his breath short. He relaxed. No one was staring at him for snoozing on the subway. He leaned back a little but otherwise sit still, perfectly collected. His mind run to his dream, his memories, his few-weeks past. Eyebrows furrowed slightly and made his nose – weighted down by fake glasses – to follow.

Two girls talked about mental shutdowns and occult matters. Akira watched them absent minded, vision framed by thick black lines that cleared his eyes from frizzy black locks.

The train passed by a level crossing and stopped at the station. The speaker-voice informed the passengers about the next one, Japanese and English. That was his one.

Akira clenched its fists against the bag in his lap. He shifted his gaze from the high schoolers to the sight in front of him. Tokyo flowed slowly outside the window, he started to notice more details. Large sidewalks and even broader streets. Road signs piled one upon the others on high poles, signaling this district and that boulevard. Elevated highways unraveled between skyscrapers. There were roads and bridges and motorways and railways and just how many layers did that city even have?

The subway stopped and Akira blinked, his mouth was slightly open. He got up and exited the wagon, his mind still lost, unfocused. He collected himself and looked at the signage to figure out what exit he would have to take. They were too many. Which one led nearer to Shibuya?

He dug up his phone from the indeed very large pocket of his new school uniform trousers and input the address on the navigation system. Yongen-Jaya. _Yongen-Jaya_. Sounded nice.

Akira found the right exit and followed the indications on the screen. He walked under a bridge and approached a traffic light. He stopped. He was supposed to cross the road, but he couldn’t see any. There were only people around him.

The light turned from red to green. People moved. And the crossroads appeared, and he could see the central square of the Shibuya station on the opposite side.

Akira froze, air trapped in his lungs. He had seen it on tv, on anime, on postcards. Social networks had plenty of photographs of the Shibuya Crossing and really, it was only a blacktop road with white stripes painted on it.

Except that, it wasn’t. There were the buildings, the shopping centers, the offices, the station itself – which was _huge_, to say the least. Advertising was scattered everywhere: on balconies, on top of the buildings. On led screens. Distant music from tv spot played from the speaker, covered by buzz and traffic. The din should have numbed him, a sixteen-years-old boy from some unknown hinterland town.

It made its eyes glow and blood rush through his body as if following the chaotic rhythm of the city. He took a deep breath and a mental picture of the scene. He lived all his life in a peaceful neighborhood that turned its back on him for saving a woman in need. And he knew it. Ten minutes into Tokyo and he knew he wouldn’t have wanted to leave. Ten minutes into Tokyo and Akira could have sworn his soul was already in sync with the city. Not quite excited, but rather astonished, raptured. 

His phone rang. Akira gazed at the screen. A red icon with a disturbing eye on it appeared on the screen and grew. It didn’t go away, tapping on it was no use. Why was it not going away?

Akira tilted his head up and blinked.

Time slowed down. And stopped.

He looked around but no one was moving, and everything was frozen.

But there was a light, a big blue flame burning on one side of the crossing. It took a trembling shape resembling half a human, half a demon.

Akira’s eyes were firm. His mind, blank, perfectly sill as everything around him. The flame looked back with fiery features, but only for an instant and it was gone. And glaring at him through the flames, there was left Akira himself, with glowing yellow eyes and a look so angry, so fierce, it could have started a war; so powerful, it lit Akira’s own resentment and rage.

And everything was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> I miss Tokyo to death. In order to write this I had to go back in the Japan-part of my image gallery and. Boi. Did it hurt. I miss Tokyo so much.
> 
> Previous work in the collection: Madoka Magica - two of my OCs - Husky  
Next one in the collection will be: Persona 5 - ShuAke


End file.
